5,000 Words
by Rea
Summary: A picture is worth a thousand words but when a muggle finds five of Colin Creevey's magical photographs, he's going to need more than that to explain why they're moving. Ch. 12! You may now consider 5,000 Words to be complete.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Colin Creevey, or Harry Potter or anything cool or potentially profitable. And that makes me very sad. Reviews are gladly accepted, though.  
  
5,000 Words  
  
Colin threw his side pack down on his bed then undid the strap that held his camera around his neck. It was a good camera, a Canon EOS 300, auto focus, 35 mm. His father had offered to buy him a digital camera but Colin failed to see the point. How could he develop moving pictures when they were digital? He thumbed the zoom mechanism mindlessly as he scanned the pictures he'd arranged on the walls of his room: his favorites. Most of them were taken at Hogwarts and showed images of Quidditch teams flying around at top speed on their broomsticks, the castle silhouetted against the evening sky but a few of them were also of the muggle world, though not as many. He was only at home a few months out of the year and it just seemed odd to make moving photographs of muggle cars crawling through heavy traffic or a girl on the sidewalk, staring at him who would then blink and wander out of the frame, coming back periodically to see if he'd stopped watching her yet. Moving pictures were simply not muggle appropriate.  
  
Most of them were newer pictures. His skill with the camera had grown from being a way to show his family back home to being a full-time hobby, almost an obsession of sorts and he routinely updated his gallery with more recent ones, better ones. The old ones went into one of the numerous shoeboxes or he gave them to his parents. It was hard to tell whether they were more pleased about his pictures or the fact he was a wizard. It really had come as a complete surprise to him. Who knew that causing the headmaster's toupee to fly off on an otherwise completely calm day was magic?  
  
His little brother Dennis, on the other hand, was no surprise at all. The two of them had always done everything together and when Colin was in his first year, Dennis was at home pouring over all the pictures and letters Colin sent.  
  
Colin paused, his finger still on the zoom and leaned in towards the gallery. There were, amongst the pictures, a few empty spots Colin knew he had filled. Aha! His favorite picture, the one with Harry Potter flying against the dragon in Colin's third year was missing. So were some nature shots and snap shots. Gone! Colin frowned, furrowed his eyebrows, dropped the camera on his bed and rushed out of his room.  
  
"Dennis!" He yelled, pushing open the door to his brother's room. Dennis moved his eyes up from the magazine he was reading on his bed and Colin blinked for a moment. A quidditch magazine? Since when...? But right now, Colin had more important things on his mind. "Have you seen any of my picture around or have you moved any of them? Some of the ones I had on my wall are missing. You didn't take them did you?"  
  
Dennis, now assured that nothing remotely interesting was happening, either with You-Know-Who or Hogwarts, moved his eyes back to the magazine. "Nah, haven't' seen them," he said, lazily turning a page. "Go ask mum, I'm busy."  
  
Colin's frown deepened and he spun out of Colin's room, down the stairs and into the office area, where his mother ran her freelance writing business. "Mum!" he began, but was cut off abruptly by an impatient shush. Her fingers moved rapidly over the keyboards, filling up lines of type on the computer screen until finally her lips spread into a smile and she clicked the save button.   
"Now, Colin, what is it?" She asked sweetly. His mom could be a dear when she wanted to be but bother her when she was in the middle of an article and a good protego charm couldn't protect you.  
  
He began without hesitation. "Have you seen some of the pictures I had hanging on my wall? I'm missing some."  
  
Her forehead wrinkled in thought. "Do you mean the ones of Hogwarts, the dragon, the Quidditch games and that...what class was it with the plants? Herbology?"  
  
Colin sank in relief. "Yes, those are exactly the ones. Where are they?"  
  
"Oh...dear..." Mrs. Creevey paused and Colin felt his innards tighten. Never in his life had any good news begun with the words 'oh dear' and today was not an exception. "I gave them to your father, so he could have a look at them at work, if he had a moment." She noted the rising panic on Colin's face and added quickly, "He didn't have a chance earlier and you so rarely show us pictures from your school any more."  
  
"But—to WORK!? Mum, he can't take those out there! How's he going to explain pictures that move or worse: Dragons!" He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. He loved his parents but sometimes they just made keeping the wizarding world secret a little difficult. Like the time they had started discussing how much trouble Colin was having in potions in front of the neighbors. Colin had managed to play it off by claiming that what he dubbed his summer cooking class, but unfortunately Mrs. Slatterly, who considered herself to be an expert chef, had promptly offered to help him. Two weeks of extra help later, Colin knew how to keep a soufflé from collapsing and that he had absolutely no desire to keep one from collapsing ever again.  
  
"Oh, Colin, do you think your father is just going to show those pictures all over the depot?" She chided gently. "Really! We may not be magical but do give us some credit!" But Colin was no longer listening. He ran back up the stairs, grabbed his bag and his camera, a couple more rolls of film (just in case), ran back downstairs, past his mother, who shouted "Where are you going?"  
  
"To get my pictures!" he shouted over his shoulder and slammed the door on her reply of "Dinner's at—"  
  
Colin ran through the back garden, dodging the clothesline, and hoisted himself over the wall that separated their garden from the Slattery's and made for the one that blocked off the street beyond that, nearly running into Mrs. Slatterly as she hung out her wash. "Oh, hello, Colin!" She called to him, as he sprinted away from her and towards the next wall. "How are the cooking lessons going?"  
  
"Swell!" he replied absently, springing out of her garden and into the road, where he very nearly got hit by a car. Plastering himself against the wall, he waited until it was clear then, taking a deep breath, he was off running towards his dad's work.   
  
He arrived ten minutes later, panting and drenched with seat. So he wasn't exactly in tip-top, fit physical condition. He was a wizard, for goodness sake! If he needed something, he summoned it, as simple as that. Unfortunately, this was summer, Colin couldn't do magic and he wasn't too sure how the town's populace would react to his father zooming across town. For that matter, Mr. Creevy probably wouldn't respond to positively to it either. Colin wiped his forehead off before walking into the building.  
  
The depot was a combination dairy and warehouse where the town's milkmen picked up full bottles of milk and dropped off empty ones each day, ensuring the town's supply of dairy products. It was also where Colin hoped to find his father. Sure enough, Mr. Creevy was there, in the loading zone, unloading crates of empty bottles onto a forklift.  
  
"Hi," Mr. Creevy grunted, carrying two crates to the lift.  
  
"Hi...er..." Colin's earlier fervor seemed to abandon him now as he watched his father work. Maybe it wasn't such a big deal after all. His father was usually so busy at work, he wouldn't have a chance to take them out until he got home anyway...still...he'd come this far. If only he'd hurry up. Colin, to his surprise and his father's, found himself helping unload the numerous crates.  
  
"So what brings you up to the depot, son?" Mr. Creevy asked as he sat the last crate down. "More picture taking?" He nodded towards Colin's camera.  
  
"No, actually I'm looking for a few pictures Mum said you took with you to word today...I need them back...if someone were to see them..."  
  
"Hold up, hold up, I know. It'd be disastrous. Secrecy and all that." He smiled broadly at Colin. "It's all right, I've got them right here in my—"Mr. Creevy broke off as he put his hand in his pocket, fishing around for the pictures. "Er..." his hand came out empty and he gave Colin a panicked look. "They're not there!"  
  
Colin smacked himself in the forehead.   
  
Earlier that day, a few miles away, a muggle by the name of Agnes Simon opened her door to pick up the fresh milk. It was early, and she hated getting up early, so it took a while for it to register that the milkman had left behind something more than just milk. She stared at the pictures for a moment, confused as she picked up a bottle of milk and tried to open it. She glanced at the pictures absent mindedly, wondering what in the world they had to do with their milk delivery. Suddenly, her eyes widened and the bottle of milk fell onto the floor in a crash as she covered her open mouth with her hand. They were moving!  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
There are times in life, Colin thought to himself, where it simply seems   
  
as though everyone is being the way they were for the precise reason of annoying   
  
you. Today was one of those days. After discovering that his father no longer   
  
possessed the pictures, Colin had left the depot to retrace his father's route.   
  
That had been 4 hours ago. He was tired. His back ached, but that was nothing   
  
compared to his feet. It felt like someone had replaced his feet with concrete   
  
bricks and they were screaming at him "Quit! Sit down! Rest! Go home! Anything   
  
put keep up this mindless search!" but, with the secrecy rules in mind, not to   
  
mention expulsion from Hogwarts, Colin continued. He peeked over a hedge at the   
  
front stoop of a house and looked around, trying to look like a casual passerby   
  
but that was difficult considering the fact he was really trying to snoop.   
  
Fortunately there wasn't an old bat out front to hit him with a garden hose like   
  
at the last house. "Thank goodness for small miracles," he muttered, straining   
  
his neck for some hint that five pictures were dragged inside along with a few   
  
bottles of milk. Just as he was leaving the part of the sidewalk in front of the   
  
house he caught it: one of his pictures (showing Hogwarts gleaming on a bright   
  
spring day), taped casually to the doorbell, grabbed his attention like a white   
  
flag of surrender and he wrenched himself backwards.  
  
Agnes paced the kitchen restlessly, alternately looking at her watch and   
  
the four pictures she had lined up next to one another on the tabletop. "Come   
  
on," she hissed into the phone receiver. What a day for her friend Emily to be   
  
incommunicado. She glanced at her watch again. "Where the heck are you?" she   
  
asked out load and then groaned as the answering machine picked up for the   
  
thousandth time. She hung up the phone and glared at it, as though it were at   
  
fault for everything. Here it was, the most exciting thing ever to happen to her   
  
and she had no one to share it with, at least no one who would believe her and   
  
not simply think it was another raving of an avid fantasy fan. Real proof that   
  
dragons existed! That people flew on broomsticks! And that certain plants really   
  
did have teeth and could choke you to death. She peered at one of the pictures   
  
closely, examining it once again for any evidence of forgery. It looked real   
  
enough. Who could fake something like this? It was even moving, which more proof   
  
that who ever took it had to be as strange as the pictures themselves.  
  
Colin yanked the tape off of his picture and to his irritation saw that   
  
only one of the five pictures was up there. He turned it over and saw a note   
  
scribbled on the back. "'If this picture belongs to you, ring door bell for the   
  
others.' Great, just great." He stuck out his finger and almost rang the   
  
doorbell when a thought suddenly occurred to him. Just what exactly was he going   
  
to say when whoever it was opened the door? They had clearly planned this. No   
  
one finds five pictures and then leaves exactly one of them to be re-found.   
  
Okay, let's see. Um, these pictures were examples of a recently developed   
  
experimental technology from a very important, top secret institution....that   
  
had somehow ended up in the hands of a milkman who delivered them, by accident,   
  
with the morning's milk. Colin closed his eyes. Not even he could believe the   
  
likelihood of that happening. He glanced down at his clothes. It was even less   
  
likely that a representative of a top-secret technology institute would be   
  
wearing dirty, sweat-drenched clothing. Maybe he could just take the picture and   
  
run...but that would be leaving the other four inside. What to do, what to do.  
  
As Agnes picked up the phone to call Emily again, planning on leaving   
  
another message to stress the importance that she call back as soon as she gets   
  
home, regardless of the hour, she picked up the phone and glanced out the   
  
window. There, standing on the stoop, was a young man with blond hair, a little   
  
scrawny, and wearing dirty clothes. He was holding the picture she'd taped up   
  
and looking as though he wanted very much to run away and she blew out a breath   
  
in frustration. She'd never thought that anyone but the pictures owner would   
  
touch it and this boy...well, he was too bright, cheery and normal looking to be   
  
whoever would have access to cool things. She hung up the phone and headed to   
  
the front door to tell him to get away and quite messing with the picture when   
  
suddenly she remembered the picture of waving people in front of waving plants   
  
and sped back into the kitchen. She skidded to a stop and picked it up. There,   
  
in the front, was waving brightly at the camera, was the same person. She ran   
  
back to the door.  
  
Before he had quite come up with a plausible excuse, the door swung open   
  
and Colin found himself face to face with a wild-eyed girl. "Hi!" she said with   
  
so much enthusiasm Colin had to bend away from it. She looked slightly   
  
embarrassed but still had that disturbing glint in her eye that made Colin more   
  
frightened and wary than ever. 'Run!' that tiny voice inside of him repeated and   
  
he decided it would be prudent to listen to it for once. "Er, sorry to disturb   
  
you but I must be at the wrong house I was looking for the umm..." he used the   
  
first name that popped into his head, "the Potter's residence, sorry," he backed   
  
away but before he could break into an all out run, the girl grabbed his arm.  
  
"Oh, you're not at the wrong house!" she said eagerly. "This is the Potter   
  
residence!"  
  
'Oh shit,' the voice said. 'Just your luck Harry Potter of wizarding world   
  
fame isn't the only Potter in the world and you just have to pick the house that   
  
also has Potters living in it. Then he looked at the girl again and realized   
  
that he could have said he was looking for a pack of dancing Flamingos and she   
  
would have insisted she was one. "Did what I just say register with you?" He   
  
asked as she maintained her iron-like grip.  
  
She shrugged. "I don't know, probably not. But I do know that this is the   
  
house you're looking for." She flashed the picture Colin had asked Professor   
  
Sprout to take of his herbology class at him. "Lose some pictures?"  
  
So much for backing out easily. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
  
Colin decided to try his excuse on her. "Yes, actually I did and it's a   
  
good thing you found them because," he made his voice sound very official and   
  
formal, "these pictures are the result of a ten-year long program funded by the   
  
British government to make pictures that move."  
  
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And I suppose the first thing   
  
the government decided it had to take pictures off was a bunch of kids wearing   
  
robs, surrounded by plants that don't exist, flying on brooms that can't fly in   
  
front of dragons that also, for all intents and purposes, also do not exist?"  
  
As far as Colin knew about the muggle government, it sounded plausible to   
  
him. "Yes, exactly. See? You do understand." He tried to grab the picture out of   
  
her hand but she wouldn't let go and forced his hand away from the picture.  
  
"Though you don't seem to understand it, I'm not stupid. These pictures   
  
are not fake and you," she looked his clothes up and down in a way that made him   
  
squirm, "are not from the government. Though, if you'd like, I could call them   
  
up and confirm that you aren't."   
  
'Damn it,' Colin searched his mind for another excuse. "Umm...these   
  
pictures are a result of a drug overdose? You're really hallucinating." He made   
  
another grab for the pictures and this time she hit him. "Ow!" He rubbed his   
  
hand. "That really hurt!"  
  
"You've got one more chance before I make the call."  
  
He looked up into her eyes and knew that she meant it and in the very next   
  
moment, the secrecy laws of the wizarding world went right out the window. "What   
  
do you want to know," he asked softly, hoping that, whatever it was, it would   
  
involve him very quickly making up a cock-and-bull story that would satisfy her   
  
intense desire to know about it and he could go on his way and never be bothered   
  
again.  
  
Instead, she pointed to his camera and asked, "Is that the camera you took   
  
these with?"  
  
Thinking this would be an easy way out, he answered, "Yes" and once again   
  
reached for the pictures but the girl pulled her hand away. "Make me one."  
  
"Make you one! I can't do that! That-that is," not ever, ever going to   
  
happen because I only have a limited amount of potion left that I brought home   
  
with me and I have a lot better things to use it on than you, he finished in his   
  
head. Out loud he finished, "impossible! I'm not allowed." Ha! There! That was   
  
even true, as far as any Ministry of Magic decree went.  
  
"Not allowed? What do you mean not allowed? Are all these pictures illegal   
  
then?"  
  
Colin let out a breath of exasperation. "No, of course not," he replied   
  
hurriedly. "I made them during the school year, we're allowed to do magic and-"   
  
he broke off, his eyes widening in horror at what he'd just let slip past his   
  
lips. His tormentor, on the other hand, was ecstatic.  
  
"I knew it!" She jumped up and down on the porch excitedly. "I knew it!   
  
There's magic and you're a magician and you say there's a school?" She stopped   
  
jumping and pulled his head down so that his eyes were peering into hers. "This   
  
is simply amazing! Brilliant! I-I-You must tell me everything!"  
  
Colin threw her arms off of him in disgust. "I'll tell you nothing! And   
  
I'm not a magician!"  
  
She looked very taken a back and, for a moment, afraid. "What do you mean   
  
you'll tell me nothing? I still have your pictures. You told me things. I could   
  
tell the whole world."  
  
His face reddened with anger and he leaned in close to her, holding her   
  
head up so she would look him straight in the eye and spoke in a very quiet   
  
voice that he hoped would have the same affect on her that Snape's had on his   
  
classes. "No, you wouldn't because I would hit you with a memory modifying charm   
  
faster than you could reach the phone. You wouldn't remember your own name, not   
  
to mention anything about Hogwarts or the wizarding world or-" he clamped his   
  
mouth shut tightly. No need to give away anything more.  
  
She watched him thoughtfully for a moment and then spoke. "No, you   
  
wouldn't. You couldn't do it; you just told me you weren't allowed. Besides,   
  
you're not the type. Even if you were the type, you would have done it before   
  
you let those-" she hesitated, "THINGS slip. You just want your pictures back   
  
and because you want your pictures back, you'll do what I want you to." She   
  
patted him on the cheek and he let go of her neck to get away from her. "Make me  
  
a photo, dear?"  
  
He could see no other way out and felt very irritated that he has already   
  
let so many things slip through. "Fine. I'll make you a photograph. Just-just   
  
promise you won't tell anyone about this or anything else I show you or tell   
  
you. Do you understand?" She nodded and he felt anger rise inside him again.   
  
"No, I mean it-" he searched for a name before realizing he didn't know one,   
  
"What's your name?"  
  
"Agnes."  
  
"Agnes, you can't tell anyone, not your mum, not your dad, not your best   
  
friend, you can't even breath a word of it in your diary."  
  
She looked aghast. "How did you know I keep a diary?"  
  
He shrugged. "Let's just say you struck me as the type. A clever   
  
assumption."  
  
"Fair enough."  
  
"So you promise? You won't tell anyone?"  
  
"I swear it on-on my autographed picture of the entire Fellowship of the   
  
Ring." Colin had no idea what the "Fellowship of the Ring" was but as long as it   
  
meant she wouldn't be telling anyone, he didn't care.   
  
"Alright. Tomorrow then. Come by my place and I'll make a picture for   
  
you." 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4  
  
The plan, as Colin had thought it out, was to sneak Agnes into his house   
  
early enough so that his brother would not be awake, his father would be gone   
  
and his mother still busy at her typewriter, then to take the picture quickly   
  
and sneak her back out again before anyone saw that a muggle had found out about   
  
the wizarding world and figured that the sooner he took the picture, the better.   
  
The first part of the plan had gone well; she had arrived at ten that morning   
  
and Colin had made sure he was the one who let her into the house and quickly up   
  
the stairs to his room. Unfortunately, Agnes seemed to have failed to catch onto   
  
his hurried demeanor and it had taken them about three hours to even get to the   
  
point of taking the picture. Now she had finally found a pose she liked, with a   
  
background she liked (some of Colin's school things and the wall of pictures).   
  
All Colin needed now was for her to stop staring at him so he could concentrate.  
  
Colin carefully inserted a new roll of film into his camera and glanced up   
  
at his subject, who was still staring at him, intensely watching his every move   
  
no matter how mundane in hopes that it would reveal itself to be magical. "You   
  
can relax now, he said irritably. "Or else you'll come out looking all stiff and   
  
won't move at all when I develop the picture." She let out a breath and tried to   
  
seem casual.  
  
"So you take it with a regular camera," she asked as he shut the back.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"And it makes moving pictures? Then why can't we make moving pictures?"  
  
"Because it has nothing to do with the camera, but with the solution you   
  
develop it in. You muggles-"  
  
"You what?"  
  
Colin looked through the shutter and tried to swallow his irritation.   
  
"Muggles. Non-magical people who have the same likelihood of producing a spell   
  
as winning the lottery in China."  
  
She harrumphed. "I resent that."  
  
"Resent it all you want," he replied with a shrug, "but it's still true.   
  
Are you ready to take this picture or not?" Agnes straightened up, put a big   
  
grin on her face and Colin suppressed a shudder as he snapped the picture.   
  
"Alright, now all I have to do is develop-"  
  
Before he could finish, the door flew open and in walked Dennis. "Hey,   
  
aren't you going to eat? Mum's only been calling you for-" he broke off as he   
  
saw that Colin wasn't alone in the room. "Whoa-am I interrupting something?" he   
  
asked, taking in the situation.   
  
"Not even remotely." Colin replied dryly, setting down the camera and   
  
wishing, that for once, something would go his way.  
  
Agnes, for her part, couldn't have been more thrilled. "Colin, who's this?   
  
Is he your brother? You didn't tell me you had a brother!"  
  
Dennis took a step back as Agnes bounded away from the wall and towards   
  
him. "It must have slipped my mind," Colin replied casually.  
  
"Just as it slipped his mind to tell me he had someone up here with him,"   
  
Dennis said to Agnes.  
  
Colin grimaced and started to say that it wasn't what it looked like when   
  
Agnes opened her mouth again. "So are you a wizard, too, or is it just Colin?"  
  
Dennis stood there frozen for a moment, his mouth opening and shutting   
  
until he finally found his voice. "I'm a wizard, too," he answered slowly, "But   
  
how did you--?"  
  
"Remember those pictures Dad lost yesterday, Dennis? This is the direct   
  
result of that. Another direct result of that is that I will no longer be   
  
showing my pictures to any parents who might lose them."  
  
Agnes nodded, ignoring the disgusted tone of Colin's response. "I'm Agnes,   
  
I found the pictures and blackmailed Colin into telling me all about it." Her   
  
tone of voice informed them that this was an accomplishment in which she took   
  
pride. "So, you go to the same school? What's it called? Pig warts?"  
  
Dennis looked at her in horror and responded as though in great pain.   
  
"Hogwarts. It's called Hogwarts."  
  
Colin grinned. Let Dennis deal with her for a while. "Hey, I'm going to go   
  
develop this picture, so why don't you two keep each other company for a while?"  
  
He turned to leave but Dennis grabbed his sleeve on the way out. "What do you   
  
mean, telling her all about this?" He whispered.  
  
"Look I didn't exactly have a choice. You see how she is? She's completely   
  
manic. I'll be lucky if I can get her off my back before the end of the week,   
  
not to mention the day."  
  
Dennis grinned. "Taste of your own medicine, eh?"  
  
Colin looked at him blankly, "What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Harry Potter? Remember him?"  
  
Colin gave Dennis a cool look. "Trust me, this is completely different."  
  
"Who's Harry Potter?" Agnes demanded, from her seat at Colin's desk. They   
  
both gaped at her. "Yes, I heard you." She tapped her ear. "Musician's ear."  
  
"Dennis, why don't you tell her all about Harry Potter while I develop the  
  
photo, ok?"  
  
Dennis looked as though that was the last thing on earth he wanted to do   
  
but nodded blandly anyway and Colin skipped out of the room towards the   
  
makeshift darkroom at the end of the hall, happy to be free of that annoying   
  
monster.  
  
There weren't many times when Colin could say he felt as though he was   
  
totally in control of his life and when he was working on his pictures   
  
constituted many of those times. There was something nearly god-like about   
  
working in the dark room, with the smell of the developing potion, the darkness   
  
all around him, and the line where pictures dried after soaking in tubs. First   
  
he methodically shook the film in the solution canister, back and forth then   
  
positioned it properly to blow it up. Once that was done, he moved a couple dry   
  
ones off of the line and put them in a pile of pictures he'd been meaning to   
  
sort for nearly a week now but still hadn't found the time. Oh, well, he'd find   
  
it sometime before the start of the term. He poked at the picture that was now   
  
in the tray, soaking. Agnes' face was now showing up clearly and was moving,   
  
too, avidly from side to side as though even in picture form, her true goal was   
  
to notice and take in everything around her. He grinned, in spite of the   
  
irritation he felt about her. Maybe Dennis wasn't too far from the mark, maybe   
  
Agnes was just what he had coming after following Harry Potter around constantly   
  
during his first year at Hogwarts. But how could he not have? Harry Potter was   
  
famous and had done more by his second year in Hogwarts than most people do   
  
their entire stay at the castle. It was simply a typical case of celebrity   
  
fever, the result of coming into contact with someone who represented what you   
  
wanted to be but never could. Colin sighed and plucked the picture out of the   
  
potion. He was much more grounded now, or at least he tried to be. Harry, he   
  
knew, was great and was great without even trying. He was a great instructor in   
  
the DA and a hero who had faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named countless times. Colin,   
  
well, he had his own things to do and photography, he was sure, was one of them.  
  
"Here they are," he announced a few hours later, as he went back into his   
  
bedroom. To his surprise, Dennis and Agnes were sitting there on the floor, with   
  
a chart in front of them and the Quidditch magazine between them. "What're you   
  
doing?" Colin asked, dumping the pictures on his desk.  
  
"Oh, I'm just telling Agnes how to play Quidditch."  
  
"Why? She's never going to be able to play."  
  
Dennis shrugged. "What else could I do? I told her all about Harry Potter   
  
and You-Know-Who." Agnes peeked a quick look at Colin and he was surprised to   
  
see she looked frightened.  
  
"You told her all about You-Know-Who?"  
  
"Well, he goes hand in hand with Harry, doesn't he?"  
  
Colin shrugged. "I guess so, but I don't think she wanted to have   
  
nightmares."  
  
"I won't have nightmares," Agnes said a little too quickly.  
  
Colin looked at her with her eyebrows raised. "The most evil wizard the   
  
magical community has ever known, who has a penchant for killing muggles and you   
  
won't have nightmares about that? I have nightmares about that."  
  
"Well, it is a bit worrisome...but I just found out not twenty-four hours   
  
ago that there is magic and now I'm finding out that there's a person I've never   
  
even heard of who wants to kill a lot of people. It's taking a while to sink in.   
  
So, while it does, I'm going to learn about Quidditch."  
  
"Don't you want your picture?" Colin asked her quickly, to remind her that   
  
this was over with.  
  
"Oh yeah!" She jumped up and Colin handed her the picture. "Wow. I'm   
  
certainly moving." Dennis peered over her shoulder at the picture and had to   
  
cover his mouth to keep from laughing.  
  
"Yes, see, as in real life as in the picture," Colin provided helpfully   
  
and Agnes wrinkled her brow.   
  
"Are you saying that I'm hyperactive in real life?"  
  
"All evidence points to yes. Now, that's it, right? You've got your   
  
picture, you won't tell anyone, and it's settled?" Colin asked her, wanting very   
  
much to cross his fingers behind his back.  
  
Looking very remorseful, Agnes nodded. "I guess so. It wouldn't be very   
  
good of me if I didn't keep my word, would it?" Colin didn't trust himself to   
  
answer.  
  
"Come on," Dennis said suddenly, "We'll take you home." Colin looked at   
  
Dennis as though he were insane. "What?" Dennis asked. "It's only polite."   
  
They took the tram back to Agnes' place and Dennis brought along his   
  
Quidditch magazine, which reminded Colin of the fact he'd been seeing a lot of   
  
it lately. "What's with you and the Quidditch magazine? Is there some sort of   
  
hex on it that makes you unable to not read it?"  
  
"Nah, I'm just thinking that maybe it would be cool if we tried out for   
  
the Gryffindor quidditch team."  
  
"Really? Do you think we'd be able to do this?" For the first time in   
  
days, Colin was intrigued and didn't even notice Agnes' stare intensify at the   
  
mention of something magical.  
  
"Yeah, I think we'd be great if we practiced up a bit. Better at least   
  
than the two interim beaters we had last year." Dennis looked absolutely   
  
distressed at the memory.  
  
"Ugh, no kidding. I've wanted to erase my memory ever since watching them.   
  
But Beaters? Are you sure? That's a very...dangerous position."  
  
Dennis just shrugged. "Not any more dangerous than chaser would be.   
  
They're the ones bludgers are aimed at anyway, then the seeker's always a   
  
target. I just figure it'd be better being the one doing the hitting than the   
  
receiving."  
  
Colin thought about this. "Alright, so we try out, but Dennis, we   
  
seriously need to practice this summer if we hope to stand a chance. And   
  
without-" he looked around him nervously-"you know what or broomsticks how can   
  
we?"  
  
Dennis broke out in a grin that could only be described as mischievous.   
  
"Easy. We'll use muggle equipment as ersatz Quidditch supplies."  
  
"Muggle equipment?"  
  
"Yep. You know, like soccer balls, rugby balls, cricket balls and bats. I   
  
throw a ball randomly somewhere and you chase it with the bat and hit it,   
  
preferably away from me...then I chase it and do the same. Hence, we practice."  
  
"That could work," Colin said, his brother's grin spreading to his face.   
  
"Maybe we could even find some more people willing to practice with us, you   
  
know, for better efficiency. Do you know any other---"  
  
"I'll practice with you!" They turned and stared at Agnes, both having   
  
forgotten she was there.  
  
"You'll what?"  
  
"I'll help you practice, I mean, I know I couldn't fly with you if you got   
  
broomsticks or ever do any magic,"   
  
"Keep your voice down!" Colin urged, looking around to see if anyone had noticed  
  
"But I wouldn't mind helping you practice," Agnes finished in a much quieter   
  
tone.  
  
"Even if it meant us aiming hard balls at you and trying to knock you   
  
unconscious?"  
  
She grinned. "Not at all. I've always been good at dodge ball."  
  
Dennis and Colin looked at each other and Dennis finalized their decision   
  
by shrugging. "Okay," Colin told Agnes, "But only as long as you're clear that   
  
this is your head."  
  
"It always has been," Agnes replied smugly. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5  
  
Practice commenced a few days later and could only be described as   
  
"interesting." Colin sincerely doubted that the other people in the park had   
  
ever seen such a bizarre mix of teenagers, balls, and bats in their lives. He   
  
knew he hadn't. He could only hope they'd get used to it over time. After a few   
  
hours, though, Colin was thoroughly frustrated. He swung desperately at the   
  
soccer ball that Dennis had sent hurling at him and Agnes had easily dodged.   
  
"Umpf!" He hit it and it flew away..one foot...two feet...three feet...it was   
  
around the third foot that it began to lose velocity and height. By the forth,   
  
it hit the ground, bounced a bit then lay defiantly still. "That's it! I give   
  
up!" He threw the bat down in disgust and walked up to the soccer ball and   
  
kicked it. "If only you could kick the bludger instead of hit it, you would be   
  
in good shape," Agnes commented as the ball soared across the park and landed in   
  
some bushes, narrowly missing some picnickers. "Like I'd want to. The bludgers   
  
are made out of iron. I'd break my foot before I'd kick it anywhere."   
  
Agnes looked surprised. "Iron? And these things fly?"  
  
"Yeah, it's called magic, remember? They're bewitched to try to hit the   
  
nearest player and the Beaters, theoretically Dennis and I, have to hit them as   
  
far away from the our players as possible while aiming at the players on the   
  
other team."  
  
Dennis came over to where the other two were standing and tore off the   
  
facemask he had insisted on wearing. "Well, that wasn't so bad. I mean, in   
  
comparison to the bowling ball, this one actually went somewhere." They had,   
  
despite Agnes' looks of misgiving, decided to start off with a ball that would   
  
be most like a bludger and it never occurred to them how accustomed they had   
  
been to magic until the moment they tried hitting the darn thing. The ball had   
  
promptly fallen down onto the ground, or rather, where the ground would have   
  
been had Dennis' foot not been there instead. It was then that Agnes brought up   
  
the point that in the "real world, you can't hit bowling balls with cricket bats   
  
and expect to get any sort of result." Dennis had stopped swearing about his   
  
foot long enough to tell her off, saying that if she knew of anything better,   
  
she could just go ahead and help them. She had promptly turned around and left   
  
the park, returning just as Colin was congratulating Dennis for getting rid of   
  
her once and for all. She was the one who brought the variety of balls that   
  
impressed Colin and now the three of them stood there staring at their remaining   
  
options, trying to decide which ball to try next.   
  
"We could try the cricket ball, I mean, they are made for cricket bats   
  
after all. Then maybe people would stop giving us such strange looks," Agnes   
  
suggested hopefully.   
  
"And here I'd thought you were immune to strange looks," Colin mocked  
  
"Only when pursuing rightfully nerdy pursuits. That doesn't count cricket   
  
bats and bowling balls," she answered stuffily. "That's dotty."   
  
Dennis frowned and picked up a tennis ball. "This might work, though   
  
somehow it strikes me as something better used to train a really bad seeker..."   
  
His stomach rumbled loudly and he threw the ball in a bad. "Here, I've got a   
  
better idea. Why don't we take a break and go grab some lunch? I'm starved."  
  
"We could go to my house," Agnes suggested quickly, "It's not to far   
  
away." Colin gave Dennis a look telling him to refuse along with him but Dennis   
  
simply grinned maliciously. "Sounds great," he answered. "Then we can finally   
  
see your house." Agnes looked pleased and Colin, disgruntled.  
  
"Okay, here are the sandwiches and drinks," Agnes announced, setting down   
  
a tray with a flourish. "So what do you think?"  
  
"Very...interesting," Colin said, glancing around her room. "Who's the   
  
bloke you've got plastered all over your walls?"  
  
Agnes blushed a bit as she handed out food. "That's Legolas," she   
  
explained, "of the Woodland realm. One of the members of the Fellowship of the Ring."  
  
Colin stared at it, rather unimpressed. "What's wrong with his ears?"  
  
"He's an elf!" She exclaimed distraught. "Don't tell me you've never heard   
  
of elves."  
  
"Of course we have," Dennis answered hotly, taking a bit of his sandwich.   
  
"It's just that real elves aren't quite as...tall. Or well dressed."  
  
"Or well groomed," Colin added. "What exactly does he do with all that   
  
long, flowing hair, anyway?"  
  
She glared at them both. "He's an expert archer, if you must know, and one   
  
of the most valuable members of the Fellowship." Colin couldn't help but smile.   
  
"So this is a...Fellowship of the Ring, as you called it?"  
  
"Oh, come on, you have to have heard of the Lord of the Rings," Agnes said   
  
desperately, sitting down on her bed. "Everyone's heard of the Lord of the   
  
Rings."  
  
Colin searched his head. "Um...is he a jeweler?" He answered finally.  
  
"NO! Really! A jeweler! How could you not know any of this, I mean, even   
  
if you are a real magician-"  
  
"Wizard," Colin cut in, annoyed.  
  
"Wizard, you should still have heard of Tolkien's masterpieces. I'd think   
  
they'd be assigned reading or something."  
  
"Oh, so they're books..." Dennis said, fishing a copy off of the bookshelf   
  
near his seat on the floor. "Blast, did he write enough there?"   
  
"Don't you guys spend any time in the real world at all? I mean, not even   
  
knowing about Lord of the Rings!"  
  
Colin was highly offended. "The wizarding world is just as real as your   
  
world is, even if the only place you muggles have encountered it is in fantasy   
  
novels."  
  
"You know what I mean. I just doesn't seem real that someone could exist   
  
in a place where' they'd never even heard of Lord of the Rings. I mean it's   
  
everywhere!"  
  
"Everywhere but Hogwarts," Dennis told her. Agnes frowned.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll just have to change that then. Here," she fished out a   
  
couple of books off of another shelf. "This is from my loaner set; I keep them   
  
specifically to loan out to people. I expect you to read it and report back."  
  
The two of them stared at her in disbelief. Finally, Dennis leafed through   
  
the books doubtfully before responding. "Look, if I wanted to read a book that   
  
had poetry, long descriptions and that sort of thing in it, I would do my   
  
History of Magic homework."  
  
Colin groaned as Agnes perked up. "History of Magic? That sounds   
  
intriguing! What's it about?"  
  
"Well, generally speaking, it's about history....of magic."  
  
"In practical terms," Colin broke in, "it's the most boring class on   
  
Hogwarts' green grounds, covers mostly Goblin rebellions and is taught by the   
  
most dull dead person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."  
  
Agnes forgot all about history. "Dead? You mean, he's a ghost?"  
  
"Yes, though I suppose he would probably be less interesting were he   
  
alive..."  
  
"That's amazing! Ghosts really do exist then? I've got to go to Hogwarts!"  
  
Colin sighed. Nothing it seemed would make Agnes less keen on the   
  
wizarding world. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
As happens when the days are filled with pleasure, time passed with  
  
lightening speed and the three of them settled into a comfortable routine:  
  
mornings that were sunny were spent at the park training for Quidditch. Then  
  
they'd have a long lunch break, during which Agnes would usually try to convince  
  
them that they should read the Lord of the Rings. Afternoons depended on the  
  
relative success of Agnes' arguments: if Colin and Dennis distracted her from  
  
her obsession, they practiced more or went over to the Creevey's and tricked  
  
Agnes into doing their homework for them. If they failed, they ended up at her  
  
house and Agnes would put in the DVDs or open one of the books and read her  
  
favorite parts, sighing all the while and saying, "Isn't that beautiful?"  
  
These days were the worst for Dennis, especially if the weather continued  
  
to be good in the afternoon. "You know," he told Colin as they left her house  
  
one evening, "if it meant she would never, ever bother us about reading that  
  
ruddy book again, I'd read it faster than you could say 'hobbit.'" Colin nodded  
  
his agreement; although he himself remained unconvinced that reading it would  
  
get Agnes to stop talking about it.  
  
The next day was sunny and warm with a gentle breeze and Dennis happily  
  
loaded up the bag with their chosen balls. To start off there was a tennis ball.  
  
It could be easily hit back and forth with little effort while giving them time  
  
to warm up. Then a regular cricket ball, rubber but heavier and bigger than a  
  
tennis ball and, finally, a soccer ball. This ball was closest to a bludger's  
  
size and lacked any sort of natural bounce. This was the ball that always  
  
brought a glare of defiance to the Creevey brothers' faces and a smirk to Agnes'  
  
lips. They had yet to keep that ball in the air for more than four or five  
  
swats, and that was on a good day. Aim was another issue. Agnes proved  
  
surprisingly adept at dodging, but as she was fond of reminding them, their aim  
  
made dodging rarely necessary.  
  
That day, they headed out and met Agnes in the park at ten am. She was  
  
already pacing out the boundaries of what they would use as a miniature  
  
Quidditch pitch. It was about forty feet long and thirty feet wide, the boarders  
  
marked by four cones Agnes claimed she had found lying around her house. "Hey,"  
  
she greeted cheerfully, wiping her hands on her pants. "Did you remember to  
  
bring the water this time?"  
  
"No," Colin said, setting down the heavy jug on the ground. "I just  
  
thought I'd carry a large empty thermos all the way out here for the sheer joy  
  
of it."  
  
Agnes gave him a very calculating look and then shook her head. He was  
  
trying, really trying, to be friendly and nice but they were training on a very  
  
tight schedule and Colin had yet to get used to the strains this placed on his  
  
physique (and Agnes' irritating personality wasn't helping). So far, he knew he  
  
had pulled a muscle in his shoulder and was pretty sure his leg was not supposed  
  
to be bruised like that but Dennis and Agnes had ignored his complaints and  
  
called him a ninny. Since then, Colin kept his aches and pains to himself,  
  
letting it out only in bouts of bitterness and sarcasm. Usually, he tried to  
  
save it for beating the ball.  
  
"Okay," Dennis got out the cricket bats and passed one to Colin, which he  
  
took comfortably into his hands. Agnes got out the tennis ball. "We'll do the  
  
same thing we did yesterday. Fifteen minutes with the tennis ball, keeping it in  
  
the air the entire time, unless we hit Agnes, of course."  
  
"Not likely," Agnes said, confidently.  
  
"In which case we get to quit early and move on to the cricket ball, where  
  
we do the same thing. Then-"  
  
"We attempt to reach some sort of accord with the soccer ball but should  
  
that fail, we curse it to oblivion." Colin brought out his wand and pointed it  
  
threateningly at the soccer ball.  
  
Agnes' eyes grew wide. "Oooh, you brought that with you? But I thought you  
  
couldn't do magic outside of school!"  
  
"We can't. It's just that, with things as they are, we figured it would be  
  
better if we brought our wands with us." He exchanged dark looks with Dennis.  
  
"Oh, you mean with Lord Vol-"  
  
"Shhh!" The fact that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's name was taboo was a fact  
  
both brothers had quickly grasped in the wizarding world and it bothered them  
  
that Agnes did not seem to understand this nor show the slightest concern over  
  
it.  
  
"Sorry!" She said irritably. "Sheesh. You'd think he was god or something  
  
the way you go about it."  
  
"Can we -not- talk about this here?" Dennis suggested, his voice taking a  
  
strained note.  
  
"Great idea. Let's play." Colin moved out and Agnes threw the tennis ball  
  
up in the air a few times, a thoughtful look on her face, as Dennis moved  
  
opposite Colin. Then, suddenly, she gave her arm a twirl and flung the tennis  
  
ball towards Colin. He was ready, moved up towards it, took a swing, lopped it  
  
towards Agnes, who quickly dogged it. Dennis ran up towards it behind her and  
  
hit again but she spun agley out of the way. They finally got her near the end  
  
of the fifteen minutes, during which they spanned the entire length of the  
  
pitch. Agnes congratulated them on their hit and pushed her bangs off of her  
  
sweaty forehead. Of the three them, Agnes was the only one who was routinely  
  
covered in grass stains and marks that looked like they should sting terribly,  
  
but she never complained.  
  
They took up cricket ball was next and it proved to be a lot more fun. The  
  
tennis ball was lighter, 'but it lacked the satisfying THWACK sound when you hit  
  
it,' Colin thought as he whacked it towards Agnes. She ducked; Dennis moved to  
  
hit the ball back at her but a man grabbed him from behind. Maybe it was the  
  
earlier mention of You-Know-Who that did it but Colin felt his heart go stalk  
  
still, dropped his bat, reached into his pocket and pointed his wand at the man  
  
before he realized that he was not threatening one of Voldemort's cronies but a  
  
muggle policeman. "What do you lot think you're doing?" He rasped at them. Colin  
  
saw Agnes' eyes go wide visibly winced upon hearing his voice and even wider  
  
when she saw his face. "Running around like that and ruining the grass?" Dennis  
  
squirmed in the man's grasp. "Been having complaints about you, we have."  
  
Colin forced his heart to start beating again. "About us? Why?"  
  
"All sorts of people saying some hooligans," he glared darkly at each of  
  
them in turn and stopped abruptly when he saw Agnes. "Well, well, well, fancy  
  
seeing you here again. I thought after last time I had made it perfectly clear  
  
you weren't supposed to come back."  
  
"Er, no sir, I just-" she stammered.  
  
The officer glanced around the park and narrowed his eyes cut her off  
  
sharply. "Right, I banned you from the park. Yet here you are with some more  
  
deviants stealing more traffic cones, whatever it is." Colin shot a worried look  
  
at Dennis but Dennis just shrugged his shoulders helplessly and they both looked  
  
to Agnes for some explanation. Sweat ran down her forehead and Colin knew it  
  
wasn't from the heat or all that running around.  
  
"I did not steal those traffic cones! It was-" But he cut her off again.  
  
"You've been causing a ruckus on the green. Tearing up the grass, ruining the  
  
peace." He looked at Colin severely and Colin realized he was still aiming his  
  
wand at him. He moved to shove it back in his pocket but was not fast enough.  
  
"What you think you're doing with that stick there, lad? Going to poke my eye  
  
out?" He released all of Dennis except his hand and strode over to Colin.  
  
"Spread your legs, arms in the air!"  
  
Colin's mouth dropped open in surprise, "What?" He asked, staring at the  
  
uniformed man.  
  
"I said, spread your legs and put your arms in the air," the bobby said,  
  
then more to himself, "Hooligans. Pointing things at people. Running all around  
  
like they are...I'm goin't put a stop to this, I will." Colin looked over at  
  
Agnes and Dennis for any sort of help. Dennis shrugged his shoulders again,  
  
while Agnes seemed to be doing some quick thinking.  
  
Feeling more than slightly ridiculous, Colin did as he was told. The bobby  
  
frisked up and down his sides, around his legs and down his arms. He found  
  
nothing and looked extremely disappointed. "Right, then. What's this thing here  
  
you had leveled at me?" He demanded, taking the wand out of Colin's grasp.  
  
It's not a wand, Colin thought, it is anything but a wand...his mind spun,  
  
looking for a logical not-wand object it could be. He looked pleadingly over at  
  
Dennis and Agnes for help. Dennis was completely at a lost, Agnes was mouthing  
  
something at him but what was beyond Colin. He looked back at the policeman.  
  
"It's a, an-er, I mean, er-," his voice trailed off and the bobby's face filled  
  
with disgust. "I want an answer, boy, and I don't mean this hemming and hawing  
  
you've been giving me. Maybe I'll just confiscate this here thing and take you  
  
down to the station."  
  
"Sir!" Agnes interrupted and the bobby whipped his head around to glare at her.  
  
"Quiet, I'll deal with you later."  
  
"It's a wand!" She shouted in desperation. Colin felt a surge of hatred and  
  
irritation burst inside of him, all of it directed towards Agnes. She promised  
  
she wouldn't tell anyone! She said that no one would know, which, presumably,  
  
also included any muggle police officer but here she was, shouting out the  
  
secrets of the wizarding world right in front of hitherto happy, unaware  
  
Muggles. There was going to be-  
  
"Yeah, a wand," the bobby scoffed. "Indeed." Colin's eyes bulged at this. What?  
  
Dennis caught on. "Yes, it is, sir. I've got one, too." Dennis pulled out his  
  
10-inch holly wand and held it firmly in his hand, for all to see.  
  
"What are you, some kind of cult?" The Bobby sneered at them. "Constable Dent  
  
doesn't deal with cults like you-"  
  
"We're not a cult!" Colin interrupted, feeling it was high time he said  
  
something. "We're just-" He had no idea what they were. Crazy came to mind.  
  
"Role-players!" Agnes supplied.  
  
"Role-players? What a load of-You can't be role-playing every bloody time you go  
  
to the park and make a mess of things!" Constable Dented shouted, his garlic  
  
breath spraying all over Colin.  
  
"Well, where else do you expect us to practice?" Agnes pressed, stepping up  
  
firmly next to Colin. "We would have stayed away but we don't have any room at  
  
home, our parents want us out of the house, where else are young fantasy  
  
enthusiasts supposed to gather? I suppose you have some idea."  
  
"Practice!" He scoffed, "right. As though you needed to practice for a bunch of  
  
made up codswollop. Bloody waste of time if you ask me. I told you once and I  
  
won't be telling you again: you can practice anywhere but here. Scuffing up the  
  
grass, scaring all the birds, it won't be had. In my day we'da 'ad two weeks  
  
hard labor for that, we would have." He let go off Colin, but still eyed them  
  
all suspiciously. "Go on, get out of here. Scarper!" The three of them didn't  
  
need to be told twice, they quickly gathered up their dispersed Quidditch  
  
training equipment and ran out of the park before Constable Dent could find  
  
another reason to detain them. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
  
They kept running until they reached the Creevey's, were up the stairs and  
  
Colin collapsed exhaustedly on Dennis' bed. Dennis slammed the door shut behind  
  
them and, for a moment, there was no other sound but heavy panting. "Please-  
  
Agnes," Colin heaved, "tell-us-is that-NORMAL-for---muggle-police-men?"  
  
"No," Agnes wheezed. "No," she put her head down between her knees for a  
  
moment to catch her breath. "That was just him-just that one. I was-unfortunate-  
  
enough to have had a run in with him last month---while role-playing with some  
  
friends."  
  
"That's just our luck," Dennis said, irritably flopping down into his jar,  
  
"that we should run into the one who's channeling Argus Filch. And, mate, we  
  
have to start running more or else we're never going to make it through  
  
Quidditch practice."  
  
Colin decided to ignore his last comment. "Yeah, I wondered who he  
  
reminded me of," then he added for Agnes' benefit, "He's the caretaker at  
  
Hogwarts."  
  
"And a real git, too, if you even put one muddy footprint on the floor,"  
  
Dennis drew his finger across his throat, "it's more than your life's worth."  
  
"I imagine that keeps the floor pretty clean," Agnes mused.  
  
Colin and Dennis looked at each other and broke into laughter. "Yeah,  
  
sure, would that we were concerned with what Filch threatens us," Dennis  
  
answered.  
  
"Exactly. Right now, we only have one course of action," Colin added, "We  
  
need to get back into that park."  
  
"Oh, no, uh uh," Agnes frowned at them. "I'm sorry, but baiting Bobbies  
  
isn't my idea of fun. The less I have to do with them, the better. Last time I  
  
got in trouble with that one my mother had a fit. And you do not want to see her  
  
have a fit."  
  
"Oh come on Agnes! It's not like we really have a choice," Dennis pressed.  
  
"We have to practice Quidditch!"  
  
"Yeah, and I have to make sure my mum never finds out how close I came to  
  
getting arrested today! Look, you've got a garden."  
  
"--Where we can run three feet in either direction before we hit a wall!"  
  
Colin was about to break into their little debate (on Dennis' side, of  
  
course) when he noticed a thick piece of parchment with green writing on it.  
  
"When did our Hogwarts' letters arrive?" He asked Dennis.  
  
"Oh, yesterday. Must have forgotten to tell you."  
  
"Yeah, must have." He tore his open and glanced through it. A thought  
  
occurred to him as he did so. "I imagine we'll have to make another trip to  
  
Diagon Alley," he gave Dennis a meaningful look.  
  
"Absolutely. I need some new robes. Mine only go about down to my knees  
  
now-"  
  
"I mean," he tried again but Agnes interrupted him.  
  
"Diagon Alley? What's that?"  
  
"It's the wizarding shopping center, where we get all our school  
  
supplies," Dennis told her.  
  
"Ooh brilliant! When're we going?"  
  
Now feeling quite irritated that no one was following his train of  
  
thought, Colin snapped at her. "We are going, you are not. Diagon Alley is  
  
muggle-impenetrable. That means that even if you try to get in there with us,  
  
you won't be able to."  
  
"You'd suddenly remember you had a dentist appointment or something,"  
  
Dennis added with a grin.  
  
Agnes, however, was highly un-amused. "That's mean."  
  
"Oh, stop with the wounded muggle act, Agnes," Colin told her. "They have  
  
to do something to keep the Muggles out. You don't want to see witch burnings  
  
again, do you?"  
  
"No," she replied stiffly, "but it just seems silly. I mean, what happens  
  
if your parents aren't magical? Your parents didn't just let you wander down  
  
there alone, did they?"  
  
"Of course not. They're allowed to come with us-I imagine the Ministry  
  
makes exceptions for some," Colin said, "but they wouldn't make one for you. If  
  
they found out you knew anything, you'd get a mind wipe faster than you can say  
  
'Obliviate.'" She harrumphed unhappily. "But that doesn't matter," he went on,  
  
"These letters arrived at just the right time." He gave Dennis another  
  
meaningful look. "I think it's time we paid some of our favorite former  
  
Gryffindors a visit."  
  
Dennis' face was blank for a moment, and then slowly, a look of  
  
enlightenment and understanding filled it. "You don't mean-" Colin nodded and  
  
Dennis a feral grin spread across his face. "Weasley Wizard Wheezes!" The broke  
  
into cackles and Agnes sat there, looking worriedly at Colin, then at Dennis.  
  
Finally, she burst out, "Will someone please tell me what a Weasley Wizard  
  
Wheeze is?" But this only made them laugh more. She glared at them for a while  
  
and they finally managed to pull themselves together. "Whew, it's," Dennis  
  
tried, "oh you tell her Colin," he said, wiping his eyes.  
  
"It's a joke shop two former Hogwarts' students opened. I bet that Fred  
  
and George would be more than pleased to help us with our Filchian problem."  
  
"But I thought you weren't allowed to do magic outside of school."  
  
"Oh we aren't and we won't," he assured her. "All we really need is some  
  
way to alert us when that constable comes around on his patrol. I don't doubt  
  
that they could help us with that. And if it should involve a few things blowing  
  
up, well, that's just the way things are."  
  
"So while you two are in Diagon Alley taking care of that, what do I do?  
  
Sit here and keep the hearth warm?"  
  
"Yeah, that's it," Dennis told her, shaking out his money stash and  
  
counting it.  
  
"You can go back to the park, if you want, to keep on eye on things and  
  
see how often he comes around," Colin told her in an attempt to sooth any  
  
ruffled feathers.  
  
"And you'll be shopping?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"While I do a stakeout?"  
  
"Hmm hmm."  
  
"My, this does sound like role reversal."  
  
"Oh, come now, we'll only be gone a day. It's not like we're asking you to  
  
plot the routes of every policeman in own."  
  
Dennis scooped some Galleons into his pocket. "But you can if you want  
  
to."  
  
"I don't."  
  
"It probably won't even be necessary," Colin reassured her. "We just want  
  
to have this work out to perfection.  
  
Agnes sighed. "Are you guys SURE there's no other place we could  
  
practice?"  
  
"Yes!" 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8  
  
Diagon Alley. Colin closed his eyes and took a deep breath as the bricks  
  
moved and shifted aside to form the welcoming arch. This was the fifth time he'd  
  
done this but he never tired of it. A breeze ruffled his hair and he opened his  
  
eyes and the four of them waded into the bustling crowds along with Dennis and  
  
his parents. It was Saturday and that meant that the Alley was three times as  
  
crowded as it usually was. Colin would have preferred to go the day after their  
  
letters arrived but his parents were intent on coming with them. They had gone  
  
with Colin each year and each year, their fascination with the place increased  
  
and they were interested in everything.  
  
Colin hoped to lose them in the bookstore, which just happened to be their first  
  
stop. As Dennis liked to say, "Get the unpleasant tasks out of the way first,"  
  
and new textbooks were high on that list, meaning homework and hours of future  
  
misery for all students. Fortunately, it didn't take too long. Besides the books  
  
for Dennis' new classes, they only really needed new defense books and The  
  
Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 for Colin. Dennis could use all of Colin's old  
  
books for everything else. By the time they had purchased them, Mr. Creevey was  
  
well immersed in Muggle Machinery: Managing without Magic and Mrs. Creevey was  
  
attempting to read Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pets but the miniature  
  
Lockharts kept distracting her by waving and winking roguishly.  
  
"Now's our chance," Colin murmured to Dennis, handing him the bad of  
  
books. He cautiously approached his father. "Hey, Dad." Mr. Creevey didn't take  
  
his eyes off the book to reply. "Hmm?"  
  
"We need to go to some other shops now. We need knew robes, some potions  
  
ingredients, that sort of thing. D'you and Mum want to go or..." he trailed off  
  
as his father started rummaging through his pockets, eyes still on the book and  
  
handed him the stash of wizarding money they'd exchanged. back when  
  
you're finished."  
  
Colin grinned, thanked him and vanished out of the shop with Dennis in  
  
tow. They did need some new robes and they went there next, then the  
  
apothecary's for potions. Colin begrudgingly handed over a good portion of their  
  
money and took his ingredients. "Snape is not worth that much money," he told  
  
Dennis grimly. Dennis didn't answer. "Dennis?" He glanced around but Dennis was  
  
nowhere to be found. Typical. Turn your back for one moment and Dennis was gone.  
  
His younger brother was standing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies, mouth  
  
wide open, staring at some Quidditch brooms hanging in the window. "Cleansweeps.  
  
On clearance." He held his moneybag up in the air. "I think I have just enough  
  
to buy it-"  
  
"And have no money left over for anything else," Colin reminded him.  
  
"That's all your allowance for months. You have a good enough broom," Dennis  
  
looked at them longingly. "Come on, we have bigger fish to fry. Besides, you owe  
  
me money for potions ingredients," he prodded and pulled Dennis away from the  
  
window.  
  
Truth to tell, Colin wasn't all that manic about Quidditch. Sure, he liked it.  
  
Everyone liked it but he wasn't a Get-Together-With-Your-Mates-And-Stand-Half-  
  
Naked-With-GRYFFINDOR-Painted-on-the-Chests fan but if he managed to get a spot  
  
on the house team, all the better, especially if Harry made captain. Dennis had  
  
the drive on this issue; Dennis had the passion to get out there everyday and  
  
practice until he dropped. The only thing Colin could feel that way about was  
  
photography. Everything else was the result of too many "whys" and too few "why  
  
nots."  
  
They walked down the alley, eyes sweeping up and down the buildings,  
  
looking for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.  
  
Then it happened.  
  
Colin had heard of it happening but this was the first time it had ever  
  
happened to him. It seemed like the sky cleared and a ray of light shot down  
  
from the sky, beaming down on a building and enshrining it in golden light. The  
  
building itself was fairly narrow, painted a dark red. Gold lettering running  
  
above the window and door read "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" and so great was its  
  
beauty that Colin had to force himself to keep walking and not stop in the  
  
street staring at it with an absent look on his face. They approached it  
  
dreamily and pushed open the front door. It opened with a pleasant twinkling  
  
sound and they were inside.  
  
The store was not dank, dusty or odorous like other stores in Diagon  
  
Alley. Nor was it clean and overloaded with goods. Instead, it was bright and  
  
rows of shelves filled with fun, dangerous looking things ran up and down the  
  
stores length. The first thing they saw was a stack of large catalogs sitting on  
  
a counter with a sign next to them reading "Take one." Dennis did and began to  
  
leaf through it, hungrily. "I'll just walk around and see if there's anything  
  
that can help us," Colin said eagerly. It looked as though the Weasley brothers  
  
had put their early departure from Hogwarts to good use. While he had gotten a  
  
pretty good idea of the extent of Fred and George's inventory at Hogwarts, the  
  
store showed exactly what creative thinking and hours spent in History of Magic  
  
could do. He was surrounded by the old classics-Ton Tongue Toffees, fake wands,  
  
and Canary Creams. Skiving lunchboxes were on special for Hogwarts students: the  
  
image of a student thoroughly enjoying himself while his classmates languished  
  
in boredom was pinned up on an advertisement board. Colin passed by them and  
  
smiled, remembering how Dennis had bravely (foolishly) volunteered to be the  
  
only second year test subject. He'd thrown up for about thirty minutes,  
  
eventually he descended into dry heaves but Dennis still insisted the money more  
  
than made up for the puking.  
  
Colin frowned as he passed a row of books stuffed into a bookshelf. They  
  
looked like the Hogwarts textbooks sold in Flourish and Blotts and Colin pulled  
  
one out, wondering what exactly they were doing in this store. The copy he had  
  
was One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and it was for sale. In a store owned  
  
by the Weasley's. "You have to tap it with your wand and say 'Oblivion,'" a  
  
helpful voice told him and Colin jumped and turned around. Standing behind him  
  
and grinning proudly was one of the Weasley twins.  
  
"Alright," Colin said nervously and pulled his wand out of his pocket. He  
  
tapped it and the inside font changed from descriptions of herbs to the colorful  
  
drawings of "Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle?" Colin said in amazement.  
  
The twin smiled proudly. "Of course, this is just the original sub-story.  
  
The publishers of "Martin Miggs" paid us a nice sum to put a sampling issue in  
  
it. Once you buy it, it can naturally be replaced with anything you'd rather be  
  
reading."  
  
"Anything can be hidden in there? That's ingenious, Weasley." When in  
  
doubt, use the last name.  
  
"Thank you," he said, giving a modest bow. "You can only imagine how the  
  
History of Magic books have been flying off the shelves-"  
  
"Really? Why? Binns would never notice if the whole class got up and  
  
started to jig, much less read a different book."  
  
Weasley laughed. "I don't ask; I just sell."  
  
"Well, it's a good idea anyway, and you could bet I'd be getting one for  
  
potions if I didn't think it was more than my life is worth to be caught not  
  
paying attention in there."  
  
Fred/George looked aghast. "You mean, you're not here to empty your money bag?"  
  
Colin smiled grimly. "I didn't say that. As it happens, Dennis and I are here to  
  
see if you have anything to help us deal with a filchian problem."  
  
The twin looked impressed. "You've managed to irritate Filch during the  
  
holidays? Well done, Creevey."  
  
"Er, actually, no. We've irritated his muggle counterpart."  
  
Now he looked very impressed. "Oh, now that's intriguing. Come on up front and  
  
let's see if we can't help you out." They weaved back through the tall shelves  
  
and reached the front counter where Dennis was crouched on a stool, voraciously  
  
reading through the catalog. "Don't drool on it, younger Creevey, or else you'll  
  
have to buy it. Oy, Fred!" George (now Colin knew) shouted.  
  
"Just a sec...having problems with the-Ow! I'll be right there!" His voice  
  
sounded a bit panicked but George smiled benignly and leaned against the  
  
counter. Finally Fred appeared from behind the booth, flicking his hand in the  
  
air and grimacing. Then he looked up and saw the two of them standing there and  
  
all signs of pain vanished and a smile appeared. "Aha! More young deviants from  
  
Hogwarts. How may we corrupt you today?"  
  
"Well, we'll start with the dungbombs," Dennis said in a faraway voice, still  
  
lost within the catalog, "then maybe the professional box of fireworks-"  
  
Colin interrupted him impatiently. "No, we don't need that. We need your  
  
advice." He leaned in over the counter. "We need a way to distract a muggle  
  
policeman who seems to be channeling Filch and that is without magic and without  
  
cluing anyone onto what we're doing."  
  
Fred looked fascinated. "An alarm of sorts, you mean?"  
  
"Yes, just to give us enough time to get away so we can keep practicing  
  
Quidditch."  
  
"Are you two going to try out for the team this year?" George asked.  
  
Dennis beamed and turned the page in the catalog. "Yes, for beaters."  
  
"Ah. Well, best of luck to you. I'm sure you'll do fine. Then again, anyone  
  
would be fine over the two useless beaters whom we shall not name we had on our  
  
team last year." All four of them cringed at the memory. Gryffindor's final  
  
victory had been nothing short of a miracle and the games still gave them bangs  
  
of misery and embarrassment.  
  
"We've been trying to get in form all summer but we seem to have irritated the  
  
local law enforcement," Colin told them. "He is determined to arrest us or at  
  
the very least, kick us out of the park."  
  
Fred tsked. "Muggles. They have no understanding of the importance of  
  
Quidditch."  
  
"Hmm," George rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then swiped the catalog away from  
  
Dennis and flipped to the back, where he had a sort of index. He read quietly  
  
for a few minutes and the others looked on. Fred rubbed the fingers of his right  
  
hand absentmindedly. After a few minutes, George closed the book with a thump.  
  
"Well, there's nothing in there that you could use, especially if you want to do  
  
this without using underage magic. Look, we'll sleep on it for a while and let  
  
you know if we come up with anything, okay?" He paused. Colin and Dennis gave  
  
their agreement and George went on. "Excellent. In the meantime, any orders you  
  
would like to place would be -appreciated." The twins looked at Dennis and Colin  
  
expectantly and Colin knew what they meant. As they say, one hand washes the  
  
other. He pulled out his moneybag. "I'll take a couple of Headless Hats and  
  
Canary Creams-"  
  
They met up with their parents at Fortesque's an hour and many galleons later,  
  
their arms filled with all sorts of goodies guaranteed to make Agnes' head spin.  
  
Admittedly, that had been Colin's motivation when buying most of the objects. He  
  
thought of her turning into a bright yellow canary, grinned maliciously and took  
  
a large bite of his ice cream sundae in order to hide it. They hadn't achieved  
  
their main objective in going to Diagon alley but tomorrow was another day. One  
  
Colin found himself looking forward to immensely. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9  
  
They went a week without hearing anything from the owner's of Weasley's Wizard  
  
Wheezes. Colin took it all in stride and used the extra time to go through his  
  
large collection of summer photographs, picking only the best to put in the  
  
portfolio that would accompany him back to Hogwarts. He would have brought them  
  
all but for two simple reasons. One, he had only one trunk in which to fit all  
  
their things and two, he much preferred to give the impression that he took only  
  
good pictures. So out with the blurry pictures, out with the ones that developed  
  
splotches or strange looking colors he was sure hadn't been there when he'd  
  
taken the picture. He also excluded the pictures he felt lacked artistic value.  
  
Having taken no real photography courses, it pretty much boiled down into like  
  
and dislike piles.  
  
Agnes wandered in and out of his life that week, randomly popping by to see if  
  
there was any news, even though they had her phone number. Sometimes she stayed  
  
and helped sort pictures, other times she was on her way to other places. She  
  
generally took the lack of news in a calm manner, which threw Colin off. He  
  
hadn't thought there was a calm bone in her body.  
  
Dennis preferred not to help Colin with the sorting and spent the first few days  
  
of that week pacing around the house, muttering under his breath and looking out  
  
the windows in anticipation of the promised owl. On the third day he lost it  
  
completely, ran out into the back garden with a cricket ball and bat in hand and  
  
started to practice by himself. It went well for a while and the only sound  
  
Colin and Agnes heard was a constant thwacking through the bedroom window, until  
  
it was interrupted three hours later by a crash and the sound of breaking glass.  
  
They didn't have to wait long to find out what happened; a guilty-looking Dennis  
  
appeared in their room, casting nervous glances around him like a crook who knew  
  
there was an orange dye bag in his pants, just waiting to explode. "What'd you  
  
break?" Colin asked conversationally, tossing a few pictures into their assorted  
  
piles.  
  
"Nothing," he answered quickly.  
  
"Dennis!" their mother called.  
  
"Shhh!" Dennis made a cutting motion across his throat. "I'm not here, you  
  
didn't see me!"  
  
Agnes' eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "He's up here, Mrs. Creevey!" She  
  
called innocently and both Dennis and Colin gave her murderous looks. "You  
  
deserved it," she said simply.  
  
"Dennis," Mrs. Creevey pushed the door open. "Mrs. Slatterly wants to speak to  
  
you. She just came over saying you broke her window with a cricket ball." Dennis  
  
winced and followed his mother out of the room.  
  
Colin continued to eye Agnes. "That was mean of you," he groused.  
  
"Yes, it was. But so is feeding an innocent person canary crèmes unawares."  
  
He choked down a laugh and she glared at him hotly. "Sorry, but it's not like  
  
you haven't already gotten us back for that." They'd given her the treat the day  
  
after they'd gone to Diagon Alley and she had immediately turned into a bright,  
  
yellow bird whose squawking was (in Colin's opinion) a definite improvement on  
  
the usual noise. The day after that, though, they finally learned what their  
  
education at the finest wizarding school in the world had failed to teach them:  
  
never underestimate a female's capacity for revenge. She had brought over  
  
freshly baked biscuits that, although they looked and tasted fine, caused the  
  
Creevey brothers to have the runs for days.  
  
Agnes shrugged. "Your mum would have found him anyway. It's best he was caught  
  
sooner."  
  
Colin opened his mouth to make a very indignant reply that would show  
  
beyond a shadow of a doubt where his loyalties lay when the door opened and  
  
Dennis came back into the room and threw a cricket ball hard against the wall.  
  
"It-" the ball banged against the wall, "-would--" SMACK, he caught it, "--have  
  
to-" BANG "-happen-" SMACK "-me!" CRASH. He forgot to catch it and the ball  
  
collided with Colin's desk.  
  
"She didn't want your soul did she?" Colin asked, feigning worry.  
  
"No, despite her resemblance to a dementor, she is, in fact, not one," Dennis  
  
scowled. "She wants me to clean out all of her gutters. Wouldn't even consider  
  
taking all my allowance for the rest of the summer to pay for it."  
  
"All of her gutters?" Mrs. Slatterly had more gutters on her house than the rest  
  
of the street combined.  
  
"Yes," Dennis answered grumpily.  
  
Agnes smiled cheerfully. "At least you won't be bored while waiting for the  
  
Weasley's reply."  
  
Dennis didn't have a hearing aid, but it definitely wanted to be checked. "'At  
  
least I won't be bored?' What do you call cleaning?" He demanded of her.  
  
Had Dennis been allowed to use magic, the gutters would surely have been cleaned  
  
with several well-placed Summoning Charms. Instead, it took the rest of the week  
  
to complete the task. Dennis alternated between cursing Mrs. Slatterly, the  
  
cricket ball, and the Department of Underage Magic. He only stopped when Agnes  
  
added his rotten aim to the list and refused to speak with her until she  
  
apologized and placed the blame firmly on the India Rubber Company for making  
  
cricket balls that lived up to any standards whatsoever. Colin was pretty sure  
  
she was being sarcastic.  
  
The events of that week, though exciting, paled in comparison to the excitement  
  
the sound of fluttering wings caused. Agnes ducked in surprise while Dennis  
  
swept up to meet the owl and detached the piece of parchment from its legs. The  
  
owl hooted, turned around and flew away. Agnes stared after it weakly. "What  
  
was that?"  
  
"The letter we've been waiting for!" Dennis said excitedly.  
  
"It came-by an owl?"  
  
"Well, yes, didn't we tell you about owl post?"  
  
"No, it must have slipped your minds."  
  
"Probably." Dennis unfolded it, cleared his throat and began to read. "'Dear  
  
Misters Colin and Dennis Creevey-' why do you always go first? Am I just a-"  
  
"Read, Dennis!"  
  
"'To this time we have given much thought to your problem with the muggle police  
  
officer. As the solutions needed to be not only effective but aesthetically  
  
pleasing as well, this rather limited our choices. First we considered headless  
  
hats-until we realized that your being headless would not much help the  
  
situation. Then we considered impenetrable lines---only to realize that this  
  
would not only keep the officer out but all other park patrons.'" Dennis paused  
  
in his reading. "That sounds just fine to me. We could have the whole park-"  
  
"Read, Dennis!"  
  
He continued. "'Then, when we had almost given it up as lost, the idea hit us.  
  
And here we have it, the Edgescope. The Edgescope provides amateur mischief-  
  
makers with the needed edge to avoid authority figures by announcing their  
  
presence by emitting a high-pitched squeal. Order your Edgescope today,  
  
available for a limited time at the special low price of 3 galleons, only at  
  
Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, 93 Diagon Alley.  
  
Good luck and may all your mischief be managed,  
  
Fred and George Weasley.  
  
P.S., Fred suggests you learn to run faster.'" Dennis threw the letter down in  
  
disgust. "3 galleons? We hardly have a sickle to our names!"  
  
Colin nodded in agreement as he looked at the letter skeptically. "I spent every  
  
last knut I had at their store."  
  
"Humph. I spent a lot more than that at their store, hoping they'd come up with  
  
something good. And now they want us to pay even more?"  
  
"Maybe we could ask for an advance on our allowance."  
  
"Right, like mum and dad would agree on something like that."  
  
"Well, we could play one of the other. You know, I wish they had at least given  
  
us some free advice for our efforts."  
  
"They did," Agnes told him, "'run faster.' That sounds like sage advice."  
  
Agnes was rapidly descending Dennis' list of likeable people and this showed on  
  
his face. "Look," Agnes continued, "if we get away from him fast enough, he  
  
can't do anything to us and it definitely wouldn't hurt to be in top physical  
  
form while playing Quidditch either. Then you can save your 3 galleons, whatever  
  
that is.""  
  
"Still, we've wasted a whole week in the hope that they would give us a real  
  
device! We could have been training!" Dennis' desperation showed in his voice.  
  
"Oh well! It was a nice break!" Agnes' irritation rose to the surface, too.  
  
"Clearly you don't understand," Colin said, determined to stay calm. "This is  
  
the future of our house team we're talking about. If we don't get some good  
  
beaters, we're finished."  
  
Agnes rolled her eyes. "So? It's just Quidditch."  
  
Dennis' jaw dropped. "Just Quidditch??"  
  
Colin sighed in mock despair. "Clearly, Agnes, you are nothing but a muggle."  
  
She visibly bristled. "Stop calling me that."  
  
Colin felt the bubble of irritation that had grown within him over the  
  
weeks of dealing with Agnes' muggle-sensitivity burst. "Calling you what? A  
  
muggle? That's what you are, isn't it? A muggle. A non-magical person," he  
  
pressed.  
  
She looked at him angrily. "It's not the word, it's the tone you say it  
  
in. Like we're beneath your something, just because we can't do magic."  
  
"I don't say it in that tone," Colin said defensively. "And what does it  
  
matter what tone I say it in? It's still true." She got up out of the chair,  
  
looking royally upset and Colin couldn't help but egg her on a bit more. "You  
  
couldn't do a magic spell or make a potion even if you tried. If anything, we  
  
should be the ones bothering you about the real world, since you seem to spend  
  
very little time in it." He saw Dennis make the kill sign out of the corner of  
  
his eye.  
  
"What do I care about doing magic spells and that sort of thing?' Agnes  
  
shot back. "I could care less about that. You act like you're so special just  
  
because you're a wizard and I'm not but you know something? If all wizards are  
  
so stuck up about being a wizard that they think no non-magical person is even  
  
worthy of knowing about them, then I'm glad I'm not a wizard. We muggles," she  
  
said the word with emphasis, as if daring Colin to say something about it,  
  
"don't act like that." Colin glared at her and opened his mouth to respond but  
  
she cut him off. "What're you going to do? Caste a spell on me? I dare you." She  
  
stood in front of Colin with her hands on her hips. For a moment, Colin sorely  
  
wanted to but Dennis, got up and pulled on his sleeve.  
  
"Come on," he said, "why don't we see if we can't get some practice in  
  
today after all?" But Colin wrenched his arm away out of Dennis' grasp.  
  
"Would you like me to? I could make you completely forget magic even  
  
really exists. Then you wouldn't have to worry about being inferior."  
  
"It's not too late, Agnes! If we go now, we can still get in a good couple  
  
of hours before dinner," Dennis said again, though louder this time.  
  
"Yes, I think I'll go. I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome" Agnes  
  
glared threateningly at Colin and stormed over to the door.  
  
"Er, we won't come then," Dennis called after her, awkwardly. "Thanks for  
  
the help, Agnes." She slammed the door shut in reply.  
  
After she was definitely out of the house, Dennis turned to Colin and gave  
  
him an odd look. "Well, you certainly made an ass out of yourself in there."  
  
"Me? What did I do wrong? She's the one who's constantly bothering us  
  
about magic and the wizarding world, something she has no right to even know  
  
about. The deal was over as soon as I gave her that moving picture." He wrinkled  
  
his nose in disgust, "I'm glad to be rid of her."  
  
"She wasn't that bad," Dennis said casually.  
  
"Really? She didn't bother you with her constant questions or pestering us  
  
about our visits to 'the real world'?"  
  
Dennis shrugged. "Well, yeah, it was a little annoying but still, I can't  
  
see how it's any different than how we were when we found out about it."  
  
"Yeah, but we're wizards and she's-"  
  
"A muggle?"  
  
"Exactly." Suddenly, Colin realized how he sounded. "Oh no," he said,  
  
shutting his eyes tightly. "Please tell me I did not sound like some pure-blood  
  
protectionist in there?"  
  
"Okay, you did not sound like a pure-blood protectionist in there," Dennis  
  
responded immediately.  
  
"Thanks, Dennis. I knew I could count on you." Dennis bowed slightly and  
  
ducked out the door. Colin stood there for a moment, staring at it when Colin  
  
couldn't bear it anymore. "Oh, god I did! I sounded exactly like one of those  
  
pure-blood types." 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
The doorbell rang and Agnes rolled over on her bed, refusing to get up and  
  
answer it. It was nearly noon and normally she would be up by this time. But  
  
today...there was nothing to get up for. Besides, she'd been up late last night,  
  
storming around and denying all of Colin's accusations under her breath until  
  
her mother had told her that she could go talk to herself in her bedroom, where  
  
she'd be a lot less annoying.  
  
The doorbell rang again. Then again. Then the person simply leaned against  
  
it, causing the entire house to echo with the irritating high-pitched ring.  
  
"Alright already!" Agnes yelled, throwing off the covers. She ran  
  
downstairs and threw open the door seconds later and, half expecting to see him  
  
there, she yelled, "WHAT?" and her friend Emily jumped back in surprise, letting  
  
go of the doorbell. An awkward silence followed and Agnes couldn't help but wish  
  
the bell would start buzzing again. "Um," Emily regarded Agnes' attire  
  
critically. "Did I wake you?"  
  
Agnes sighed and moved out of the doorway. "Come on in," Agnes said,  
  
moving automatically into the kitchen and put on the kettle for tea. "I'm sorry,  
  
about that, Emily, it's just that I have had an-a-rough couple of days and-"  
  
"Does this have anything to do with the incredibly large number of  
  
messages you left on our answering machine?" Emily interrupted.  
  
Crash! Agnes dropped the teacup she'd been holding in surprise. Blast it!  
  
The messages! Agnes had forgotten all about those. "Um, yeah," Agnes answered,  
  
looking down at the broken ceramic on the floor. "Where were you?"  
  
"On our holiday," Emily told her while she passed over the broom. "My  
  
parents rented a cottage on the Isle of Wright for a few days, I told you about  
  
that, remember?"  
  
"It must have slipped my mind," she said dryly and dumped the shards into  
  
the trash. "My mum's going to kill me if she finds out I broke another cup," she  
  
said mournfully.  
  
Emily shrugged. "Just take out the trash before she gets home. Then she  
  
won't know about the cup and will be happy with you that you took out the  
  
trash."  
  
"Now there's an idea. Tea?"  
  
"No thanks."  
  
"If you're sure," Agnes poured the tea into her own cup and looked up to  
  
see Emily staring at her oddly. "What?"  
  
"Nothing, it's just that I thought you were going to go visit your dad in  
  
Edinburgh for a while."  
  
"Oh. That." Agnes felt her moodiness increase. "Yeah, I was but he  
  
cancelled last minute. Said he hade to work overtime on some project."  
  
"Goodness, Agnes, if he can't get his act together, you'll go the whole  
  
holiday without seeing him."  
  
"I know," Agnes said, "and, if you ask me, it's just as well. Mum's pretty  
  
upset about it though." Emily raised her brow in a question and Agnes continued.  
  
"She yelled at him for nearly an hour. Agnes raised her voice in imitation of  
  
her mothers'. "'She needs a father-figure in her life, not just a check every  
  
month' and so on, so forth."  
  
"Ugh. I'm glad my parents aren't divorced."  
  
"Humph. With my parents it's better they are. Sometimes I wish I could  
  
divorce myself from them. If dad doesn't want to see me, that's fine: I don't  
  
want to see him," Agnes' voice filed with bitterness and Emily wisely changed  
  
the topic.  
  
"So...what was this terribly exciting news you had to leave ten messages  
  
about?"  
  
Agnes opened her mouth to answer then paused. Colin had told her not to  
  
tell anyone about the wizarding world, not even her best friend, and she had  
  
promised. But...she looked at Emily and felt temptation fill her chest. It would  
  
be the perfect way to get back at Colin, he'd regret ever treating her that way!  
  
Besides, it wasn't like Emily hadn't yearned for some confirmation that even  
  
fantasy novels had a bit of basis in fact, just like Agnes had. She looked at  
  
Emily and bit her lip, letting the devil and the angel fight it out. But,  
  
finally, Agnes knew she couldn't. It wouldn't be right, no matter how rude Colin  
  
had been to her, she couldn't do it. "Nothing," she said firmly.  
  
Emily eyed her with suspicion. "For 'nothing,' it certainly took you a  
  
while to come up with it. Come on, you're hiding something!" She leaned in  
  
across the table. "Is it about a boy?"  
  
"Er...yes," Agnes said slowly. Boys were central figures in the story.  
  
"I knew it!" Emily jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands together  
  
loudly, a big grin spreading across her face. "Who is he? Do I know him? What's  
  
he like?"  
  
Emily's reaction caught Agnes completely off guard. "Well, first of all,  
  
he's stuck up and thinks I'm annoying and we had a bit of an argument  
  
yesterday," Agnes replied irritably.  
  
"Aww, a lovers' quarrel!" Emily gushed. Agnes spit her tea out across the  
  
table.  
  
"Excuse me? Lovers? Quarrel? Hold on just one second! You have the  
  
completely wrong idea!"  
  
"Yeah, right! Where'd you meet? At some convention or something? I bet  
  
he's into all that stuff too, right?"  
  
Agnes paused. "Actually, yes, he is, but not in the way you'd think..."  
  
But Emily went on. "I knew it! Any bloke would have to be to get your  
  
attention!" Emily had always been more romantically inclined than Agnes and,  
  
seeing how she was about to explode from Agnes' imaginary love life, she forgot  
  
her decision to keep mum about the subject. "He has not caught my attention, it  
  
was merely a coincidence we met at all, I hope never to see him again and-"  
  
But Emily wasn't listening. Her eyes had lit up with a fire Agnes knew all  
  
too well. "Such chemistry! I can see sparks are already flying! How long have  
  
you known him?"  
  
Agnes had never ever wished her friend would shut up more in her life. 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
The last days of the summer neared and Colin felt the tiny bubble of  
  
excitement in his stomach grow larger with each passing day. Soon, they would  
  
pack up their things, say good-bye to their parents and board the Hogwarts  
  
express bound for Hogwarts.  
  
But, amongst his impatience for a new year to begin, something unrelated  
  
to Hogwarts preyed in his mind. He knew from the looks Dennis gave him that he  
  
wasn't the only one thinking about the way he had behaved towards Agnes. They  
  
practiced beating a few more times without her, albeit a bit more carefully than  
  
before with the power-happy muggle policeman lurking around.  
  
"It's just not the same," Dennis complained as they took a break under a  
  
tree in the park. "I need someone to aim at in order to practice."  
  
"And you called me muggle-hating."  
  
"I did not. If you'll remember, I distinctly said you were not a pureblood  
  
protectionist. Besides, I never said the person I aimed at had to be muggle. I  
  
could hit you just as well-but then I'd be short a beater." He smiled crookedly  
  
and Colin rolled his eyes.  
  
"Gee, Dennis, you're all heart." Dennis' smile melted into a scowl.  
  
"Whereas you seem to be entirely sour. You know, if it bothers you so  
  
much, you could just go and apologize to Agnes."  
  
"I have no intention of apologizing to Agnes. I gave her her picture, she  
  
gave me mine, the deal out to have ended there. None of that Quidditch playing  
  
or long, drown out History of the Wizarding World lessons should have happened."  
  
"Well, at least she did our history homework first but does this mean I  
  
have to deal with bitter, sulky Colin until we get back to Hogwarts?"  
  
"Shut up." Colin threw a cricket bat at Dennis. "Let's practice more."  
  
But even in the Creevey household it seemed Colin could not escape  
  
sympathy for Agnes. Their dinnertime discussions of Hogwarts, its faculty, staff  
  
and courses began to take ugly turns. That night, the conversation began  
  
casually when Mr. Creevey asked if that mean teacher that everyone hated would  
  
be teaching there again. "Snape?" Colin asked. "Probably."  
  
"He hates Gryffindor too much to leave without doing some sort of harm to  
  
us," Dennis added.  
  
"Really, I don't see why they'd allow such a terrible professor to keep on  
  
teaching there. It just doesn't make any sense," Mrs. Creevey opined.  
  
"Maybe there's a severe shortage of good potion masters," Colin suggested.  
  
"Kind of like the situation with Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. Snape's  
  
all Dumbeldore could find."  
  
"Too bad that position's not cursed, too, then. We're already scrapping  
  
the bottom of the barrel."  
  
"It's probably just as well there's one class you two don't like," Mr.  
  
Creevey said while reaching for the potatoes, "or else we'd never be able to get  
  
you away from Hogwarts." Mrs. Creevey nodded.  
  
"And you had such a good holiday this year too, with all the days you  
  
spent playing with your new friend. What was her name?"  
  
"Agnes," Dennis supplied and Colin felt his tension-level rise.  
  
"That's right. You three certainly spent a lot of time together. I was a  
  
bit surprised, to be honest. You two haven't really had all that many friends  
  
outside of Hogwarts, you know."  
  
It was nothing really earth shattering for their parents to point out that  
  
Colin and Dennis were loners. Before Hogwarts, they had been largely ignored by  
  
their peers and regarded as oddballs. Then came their letters; first Colin's,  
  
then Dennis' and everything fell into place. They were wizards. Somewhere, they  
  
were not considered freaks but magical. In Hogwarts, they found their real  
  
element and soon forgot that they had no friends outside of Hogwarts to come  
  
visit during the holidays. In fact, until he was confronted with the absurd  
  
muggleness that was Agnes, he had never realized how out of touch they had  
  
become with the world in which they had spent the first eleven years of their lives. Mr and Mrs.  
  
Creevey might have served as a connecting thread between their  
  
sons and the muggle world but they were too intrigued themselves by the  
  
incomprehensible mystery of the wizarding world to think much of it. Matters  
  
were not improved by the return of You-Know-Who. Their parents knew about He-  
  
Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but neither Colin nor Dennis were willing to tell them he  
  
was back or that they had spent the past year learning how to defend themselves  
  
against attacks. What could they say or do even if they did know? Nothing,  
  
absolutely nothing. His parents, maybe all muggles, were just as out-of-place in  
  
the wizarding world as Colin felt in the muggle world. It was a breach that  
  
could never be fixed.  
  
So, Colin and Dennis kept their mouths shut, packed up their trunks,  
  
promised to send letters and pictures (with their parents promising similar) and  
  
returned to Hogwarts ready for another year or belonging.  
  
"Harry! Harry!" Harry Potter turned around and Colin saw a faint smile of  
  
resignation form on his mouth. "Are we continuing with the D.A. again this year,  
  
Harry?" Colin asked before Harry had a chance to say anything. "Dennis and I are  
  
ready to go!"  
  
"Er-I'll have to get back to you on that one, Colin," Harry replied  
  
shortly and walked away to in the crowd.  
  
"Geez, you don't think he'd be more eager to continue once the ministry  
  
and everyone's admitted he's back," Dennis said, popping up behind Colin.  
  
"Yeah, really," Colin agreed and they followed the groups of students into  
  
the Great Hall for the sorting ceremony and welcome feast.  
  
"I talked to Natalie MacDonald earlier and she said that they'd even told  
  
the muggle Prime Minister about it."  
  
"You know, I've always wondered if he really takes our warnings about bad  
  
wizards seriously. I mean, how would you react if you were the leader of a  
  
country and some bloke in green robes and a funny hat came and told you a dark  
  
lord was loose torturing and killing people?"  
  
"I'd think they were bonkers," Dennis replied without hesitation. "But  
  
then again, Agnes believed us."  
  
Colin shrugged. "Agnes isn't exactly stable herself. She makes Loony  
  
Lovegood look grounded."  
  
Dennis started to say something but stopped as the sorting began. It was  
  
always entertaining to see the first years approach the sorting hat, most of  
  
them looking pale and nervous. Colin himself hadn't been too nervous-he had been  
  
far too intrigued by everything going on around him to be nervous. As for  
  
getting into Gryffindor, he'd been pleased at first but nearly estatic when he  
  
learned who else was in there with him.  
  
Part of his mind wondered what house Agnes would be in but he shook that  
  
thought firmly out of his head and forced himself to concentrate on the food  
  
that appeared on the table tops at the sorting's conclusion.  
  
When he reached his dormitory, however, and finally settled down into bed,  
  
the thought had come back and refused to leave. It was clear. He had treated  
  
Agnes unfairly. It was more Slytherin of him than Gryffindor to say such things  
  
to Agnes and not have the guts to apologize. He closed his eyes tightly. This  
  
would not stand. He would set things right-or at least, as right as one could  
  
set them from Hogwarts. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
  
Every school year begins with a schoolbag filled with books and good  
  
intentions. For example, Agnes and Emily had both vowed they would promptly do  
  
their homework after school instead of putting it off and....putting it off. The  
  
first week went well; every afternoon found the two of them in one or the  
  
other's houses, studying away. By the second week, however, their diligence was  
  
waning and they spent less time studying and more time messing around.  
  
"Alright," Emily said from her spot on the floor, feet on the back of the  
  
door and staring at Agnes upside down, "Rohan at first seems more powerful than  
  
Gondor but, admit it, if the Ents hadn't destroyed Isengard, they would have  
  
been massacred."  
  
"But that's not the point," Agnes said from her bed. "The Ents DID come to  
  
the rescue. Furthermore, Gondor would have falled had Rohan not come to their  
  
rescue." Emily thought about this for a second. "Okay, so what it boils down to  
  
is that everyone had help from someone else. Remind me again what this has to do  
  
with the War of the Roses?"  
  
Agnes slammed her history book shut in despair. "Nothing at all. I think  
  
we officially stopped studying the moment I tried making that comparison."  
  
Emily laughed. "We're terrible. At this rate, that essay's never going to  
  
get written. Though," she added thoughtfully, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be  
  
in tip-top Lord of the Rings shape before the convention, eh?"  
  
"Provided we get tickets to go to it."  
  
"Yes, there's always that." But, cheer up, Agnes! Maybe you'll mee some  
  
new, young fanboy. It's such a shame that other one moved away." Agnes cringed.  
  
She had been avoiding thinking about the wizarding world so well lately and then  
  
Emily had to bring it up. Since the time she had told her best friend about some  
  
problem involving a boy, Emily had grown so obnoxious and determined to meet him  
  
that Agnes had finally broken down and told her that he and his family had moved  
  
to Orkney. The story went something like this: sudden death of some family  
  
member, leaving behind property that needed immediant occupancy or else imminent  
  
foreclosure, etc. Emily bought it but continued to bring it up every chance she  
  
got. Agnes could only hope that time would work its magic and all would be  
  
forgotten.  
  
But it had been fun and so exciting to be in the presence of people  
  
capable of real magic that Agnes doubted she herself would ever forget about it.  
  
And Colin and Dennis had seemed so normal on the outside-until one talked to  
  
them, at which point it became blatantly obvious that they were either not from  
  
around these parts or had been living under a very heavy rock.  
  
She sighed wistfully and opened the textbook back up while Emily recited  
  
some basic facts about the War of the Roses. Did she regret anything? Well, some  
  
things, yes: that she hadn't made them take her with them to Diagon Alley, that  
  
she hadn't witnessed them perform real magic-despite their claim that it was  
  
forbidden, she had never really seen any rulebook saying so. Besidse, that one  
  
day at the park, they'd seemed ready enough to use their wands. Who was to say  
  
they wouldn't? Really, the only thing she fully regretted was the one thing she  
  
couldn't change: the fact she was not magical, that she was a muggle and that  
  
two boys whose origins were as humble as her own had admittance to a whole  
  
world. While she was stuck writing boring essays on long, boring wars and sewing  
  
shoddy pillows in Domestic Sciences, they were learning about Goblin rebellions  
  
and brewing potions of all kinds. Moreover, they didn't seem to appreciate it!  
  
Who cared if the teacher was mean or the class boring? Agnes would have given  
  
her left arm to sit for an hour in either class!  
  
"Agnes!" Her mother called, "If Emily's still up there, tell her her  
  
mother's just rung and she needs to go home! And you're supper'll be ready in  
  
ten minutes!"  
Emily groaned and unforlded herself out of her inverse position. "Just  
  
when I was actually getting somewhere, too." She straightened up her school  
  
uniform, grabbed her bag and looking up to say good-bye to Agnes, started in  
  
surprise. "My god! Agnes, look out your window!" Agnes did and, turning, she saw  
  
an owl fluttering outside her window. An OW! Her heart skipped a beat as she  
  
tried to remain calm and offer up a plausible explanation. "Oh, that's er, our  
  
neighbor's owl. He has eccentric tastes in pets."  
  
"I'll say! I've never even seen one before, though I guess that makes  
  
sense, as they are nocturnal." Emily moved to get a closer look, but Agnes,  
  
spying the letter tied to it's claw, burst out:  
  
"Look! Don't you think you should be going? Your mum'll be upset if you're  
  
late and I've got to get ready to eat."  
  
Emily gave her a funny look. "Well if I bother you that much, Agnes, I  
  
don't have to come over at all."  
  
"No, it's not that, it's just that-my mum's been annoyed at me lately for  
  
not helping out as much since school's started and she's threatening not to let  
  
me go to any convention at all and I really, really don't want to make her mad."  
  
Emily's look softened into a more understanding one.  
  
"Oh I'm sorry. Look, I'll see you tomorrow and I swear we will go to the  
  
convention. Even if I have to pay for you." She squeezed Agnes' hand tightly  
  
then picked up her bag and left the bedroom. Agnes heard her on the stairs,  
  
waited a few seconds to be sure she wasn't coming back and then raced over to  
  
open the window.  
  
The owl must have been hovering for some time because it flew around  
  
agitatedly for a minute before letting Agnes remove the letter tied to its leg.  
  
Her name and address were written on it and she opened it excitedly. Her joy  
  
jumped up another notch when a few pictures fell out onto the ground and she saw  
  
her name at the top of this parchment as well.  
  
'Agnes-  
  
Look, I know we didn't leave on really good terms and I just want to say  
  
I'm sorry. There I said it: SORRY. I didn't mean to get mad or to get you mad  
  
but to be completely honest, you did get pretty obnoxious. '  
  
"That's supposed to be an apology?" Agnes said in amazement. She read on:  
  
'You see, it's hard to remember that all this is new to you when it seems so  
  
ordinary to me. On the same token, Dennis and I realized this summer how out of  
  
touch we have become with the muggle world (don't hate that word-that's what it  
  
is!) So, if you're willing, we'd like to re-establish relations with you keeping  
  
us up-to-date on the muggle world, letting us know what's going on and that sort  
  
of thing. For our part, we'll make you an honorary witch of sorts, meaning  
  
you'll get a lot of information most muggles don't see in their entire lifetimes  
  
(Please-don't tell the Ministry of Magic on us!). As a show of our good faith,  
  
we offer you these pictures I took recently at Hogwarts.  
  
We hope to see you again in the holidays,  
  
Colin and Dennis  
  
P.S. Quidditch trials are on the 12th! Wish us luck!-Dennis  
  
P.S.S. Reply by return owl. Sorry, but we don't know how else you'll be able to  
  
get a letter to us. Be sure to feed and water him-he's flown quite a ways.'  
  
Agnes looked at the owl, who was now perched on her footboard. How was she  
  
supposed to care for an owl?  
  
Then she glanced down on the floor at the pictures that had fallen down  
  
and she picked them up. One was a good picture showing numerous carriages  
  
heading up to a castle with people-students, perhaps-inside them, plainly being  
  
pulled by magic.  
  
The second showed a comfortable red and gold room with students lounging  
  
around. Colin's caption read "Gryffindor Common Room" and even pointed to where  
  
Harry Potter was supposed to be, but no one was where he said he was. She set it  
  
aside.  
  
The last was a picture of a very large, hairy man holding a dog with a forked  
  
tail up in the air. The dog glared out of the picture and the trees moved in the  
  
wind and for a moment, Agnes felt like she was there, as though she had been  
  
pulled through the picture and onto the Hogwarts' grounds. At that moment, there  
  
was nothing in the world she felt she wanted more.  
  
"Agnes!" Her mother called, causing her to jump. "Supper!"  
  
"Alright, I'm coming!" Giving the pictures one more wistful look, Agnes  
  
set them down on the bed, vowing to reply to the letter Colin and Dennis had  
  
sent her that evening, before she had to feed and care for the owl too much, and  
  
headed out of her room to supper, shutting the door behind her.  
  
The End.  
  
Author's Note: And that's it! I'm done! No more updates from here on out. But it's probably high time I thanked my reviewers. So here goes: First off, I'd like to thank EyesofEmeralds for your reviewing devotion-when I checked my email and saw all of them I thought I must have had a virus of some sort. I was very pleased to find out that I didn't-and that someone had taken the time to review my story. Thanks! And next, I'd like to thank Wolfawaken (yes, it was fun and no, a muggle is a muggle-I don't imagine she'll ever really get to see Hogwarts. Life is so unfair.), Loquatious, Tessa, LNLisa, Noodlebug, Nuova, Lady Bell (that similarity hadn't occurred to me while writing-an autographed picture of the fellowship just happened to be the most nerdiest possession I could think of at the time.), kateydidnt, Jillie, FanFictionDreamer, and Bland Taste ( I hope your username doesn't reflect the stories that you read )  
All in all, it was a fun ride and who knows, maybe we'll do it again some time. 


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